Tools of the Trade
by know1knows
Summary: Dean tells Sam he has gone out to buy some new supplies they need to hunt the multitude of demons they let out of Hell at the end of AHBL2. But Sam is having a hard time believing him. Especially when he finds out where he went.


_This is just for fun. An idea that my husband put in my head after watching 'The Magnificent Seven.' So I want the thank him for providing the inspiration for me to write this._

_And, of course all the standard disclaimers apply: Not mine. Not making any money. Don't own anything pertaining to the show. Anything else I forgot._

_I just like to play around._

_Hope you enjoy it..._

* * *

**Tools of the Trade**

Sam sighed before glancing up and down the street and, for the umpteenth time, looked at his watch. Dean had been gone for almost two hours and Sam couldn't call him. He didn't have his cell phone. It had slipped unnoticed out of his pocket somewhere and now he couldn't find it. With any luck it was sitting on the front seat of the Impala. At least, that's where he hoped it was. He'd never gotten an answer on that from Dean. And now he couldn't even contact him.

They'd been in the library doing research on their latest case when Sam had first noticed his phone was missing. He'd looked all over the library for it and was about to head back outside to look in the car when Dean had appeared out of nowhere and asked him where he was going. Always one to weasel out of doing any kind of bookwork – research or otherwise - Dean had been quick to volunteer to go check the Impala for him.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it had been more like an order. A decree for Sam to stay where he was and give Dean the chance to disappear. And Sam had fallen for it, not really thinking that it would cause any harm. Because what kind of trouble could Dean actually get into by looking in the Impala for his cell phone?

But now Sam realized he should have known better. Because that had been the last time that he had seen him. And when Dean still hadn't returned over thirty minutes later, Sam had come up with some lame excuse that actually worked on the librarian to use the private phone at the reception desk.

"Uhh, Dean, where are you?"

"I went to pick up a few things."

Sam paused, instinctively fearing what 'things' his brother was out picking up. "Explain _things_ to me Dean"

"You know….necessities."

"What _kind_ of necessities, Dean?"

"Supplies."

"Supplies for what?" Sam asked suspiciously.

Fer huntin', Brainiac. Whaddya think?"

"With you, I never know."

"Aw, come on, Sammy. You know I'd never go out and spend my hard-earned cash on things we don't really need."

"So, I guess that makes girls and beer necessities then? At least in your twisted mind."

"Those are necessities, Sammy. At least for any full-blooded male they are. But you, however, don't quite seem to fit into that category."

"Dean…tell me you aren't actually picking up gir…"

"Relax, Mr. Respectability. I give you my word that I'll only come back with essential provisions."

"Why doesn't that statement make me feel any better?"

"Because Sammy, you're way too uptight. Just go back and finish your research. I'll be back before you even know I was gone."

"It's a little late for that, Dean. And uh, by the way, did you happen to find my cell phone in the car?"

But Dean had hung up. Leaving Sam stranded and alone. So, with nothing else to do and no way to determine exactly what his brother was up to, Sam had thanked the woman for the use of the phone and gone back to his research.

And when he finished an hour later Dean still hadn't shown up.

At least he hadn't come inside the library. So Sam reluctantly packed up and walked outside. Because he just never knew when a pretty girl might saunter by and grab Dean's attention. Then, it was entirely possible that he would leave Sam inside waiting for him for hours. With absolutely no shame and even less remorse. Dean would even spin everything around and blame him for not having the common sense to come outside earlier and look for him. But to Sam's amazement, there was no sign of Dean or the Impala when he walked out of the building. He looked up and down the street but didn't see anything that even slightly resembled his brother or the car. Pushing down his frustration at most likely being cast aside in favor of his brother's latest sexual endeavor, Sam briefly entertained the idea of going back in and asking to borrow the phone once more. But the librarian hadn't seemed too happy the first time he had asked so he quickly dismissed that idea. Instead he sat down on the top step and occupied himself by watching the traffic go by.

But the longer he sat there, the more annoyed he became. Because this wasn't the first time Dean had abandoned him. Not by a longshot. He'd been doing it for years. Ever since he got his driver's license. He'd find some cute girl and take off for an hour or more before he bothered to come back. Which was what had prompted Sam to demand his father provide him with a cell phone of his own. Not that having a cell phone had changed anything, but at least Sam could threaten to call Dad if Dean didn't come back for him.

But that had only worked until he left for college. And now he didn't even have his cell phone. And calling Dad wasn't an option any more either. But he could still pester his brother with it. Only not today.

Besides, the only thing Dean cared about these days was having a good time. Which more often than not included satisfying his sexual urges. And he'd been placating it almost constantly for the last few months. Ever since he'd made that stupid deal with the crossroads demon. Dean had always acted on impulse before, but lately, all his impulses seemed to center around his over-active libido. Not that Sam could really blame him because, for all intents and purposes he was dying. But the more time he wasted goofing around – or getting laid – amounted to less time they had to focus on saving him.

And that's what made Sam mad. Because, regardless of what Dean said, there had to be a way out of it. But in order to find it, they had to cover a lot of ground first. They had to eliminate as many demons as they could and destroy the ones that had come up through the devil's gate. Because those demons in particular would try everything they could to stop them from reversing the deal. Lots of them were probably demons that Dean had previously sent back to Hell so they would stop at nothing to see him trapped there for all eternity in order to exact revenge on him. Even if they didn't go looking specifically for them, Sam was positive they were bound to meet up with any number of reprehensible demons in the coming months. But keeping Dean focused on hunting them was turning out to be next to impossible.

Especially when he kept ditching him in favor of having a good time.

Sam looked up and scanned the surrounding area yet again. But there was still no sign of his brother. So Sam pulled out his research notes and began looking over them. He figured he might as well refresh his memory so that when Dean eventually did show up, he could just fill him. But after re-reading them three times, Dean still hadn't come back. Sam had just pulled out his father's journal to see if there was anything he could cross-reference with his own notes when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine in the distance.

And sure enough, it slowly grew louder. And clearer. Indicating that in all probability Dean was returning to get him. But Sam didn't bother to put away the book and he had no intention of moving from his seat until the Impala actually came into view. Or better yet, until it pulled up to a stop at the curb right in front of him.

Because, you could never tell with Dean.

But within seconds the familiar silhouette of his brother's car appeared on the horizon. Followed quickly by the booming bass echo of an as-yet-unrecognizable heavy metal song. As Dean drove by on the opposite side of road he waved and grinned widely at his brother before spinning the car around in a tight half-circle with the tires screeching. The resulting smoke emanating from the squealing tires quickly permeated the surrounding atmosphere as the Impala veered to a picture-perfect stop against the curb dead ahead.

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up. Walking toward the still-rocking car he asked irritably, "Where've you been?"

"Shoppin'."

"_For two hours?"_

"Gotta make sure I spend my money wisely. It doesn't grow on trees, you know."

"Unless you just happen to have found something else to do while you were out," muttered Sam sullenly under his breath.

"What exactly are you insinuating, Sammy?"

"Nothin'. Just forget it," Sam responded as he reached for the door handle to let himself in. But before he slid into the passenger seat, he couldn't resist glancing in the backseat, almost positive that he'd find at least one person of the female persuasion hiding back there. But the only things back there were a few discarded food wrappers, a couple of empty pop cans and some big plastic shopping bags from Wal-Mart.

Sam raised his eyebrows, looked quizzically at his brother and inquired, "You went shopping at Wal-Mart, Dude?"

"Best bang for my buck, if ya know what I mean" replied Dean confidently, pulling the Impala back onto the road.

"But...for hunting supplies?"

"What? Wal-Mart has a hunting department."

"Yeah they do," agreed Sam reluctantly, "With low-grade weapons and commonplace hunting accessories and ammunition. Nothing a real hunter could use."

"I wasn't lookin' in the hunting department anyway."

"Then where were you looking?"

"At the seasonal. stuff."

"For _what_, Dean? What exactly could they have in the Back To School or Halloween sections that you'd be looking for?"

"I wasn't lookin' in those departments either. I was checking out the last-minute bargains before they put the rest of the summer stuff away in storage."

"_Okay,_" remarked Sam trying desperately to keep his temper in check, "But the question still remains…_What_ were you looking for?

"For a tool that will come in real handy ever since we let all those demons out."

"So why exactly were you looking this tool at Wal-Mart, Dude?"

"'Cause they got the best selection. And the best prices too. You should know that Sammy. You've seen the commercials. Read the flyers."

"But what could they possibly have that we need for hunting, Dean?" Sam queried angrily

"A new kind of weapon," answered Dean smugly, obviously reveling in the irritation he was causing Sam.

Sam clenched his teeth and snarled loudly, "_DEAN…!_"

"Okay, okay," conceded Dean with a smile. "I'll show you."

He reached into the backseat and Sam could hear the crinkling of the plastic bag as Dean attempted to shake something out of it. A few seconds later Dean plopped a huge, elongated item directly onto Sam's lap.

Sam looked at it for a moment before the reality of what it was sank it. "_A Super-Soaker? _You went to Wal-Mart and bought a water gun, Dean?"

"Yep. Two of them."

"Two water guns? That you absolutely had to have," queried Sam incredulously. "What the hell has come over you, Dude?"

"They're not just any ol' water guns, Sammy. They're Super-Soaker-Aqua-Shock-Hydroblitz's. Best model out there. And I got 'em at rock-bottom prices too"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "So… now you gonna explain to me why we need these over-rated, plastic children's toys?"

"To fend off demons. Why else?"

"How, Dean? By making them laugh themselves back into Hell when they see us coming with these?"

"No, Sammy. Nothing like that. Just think about it. What's the best way to fight off demons?"

"With Holy Water," replied Sam, still unimpressed.

"Exactly," verified Dean. "We usually throw Holy Water at them from flasks. But that leaves a lot to be desired when we're fighting more than one demon. The flasks don't hold much and flingin' holy water from them ain't really an exact science. Like when we were up against the Seven Deadly Sins. Lots of the water we had just landed harmlessly on the floor or tables. We were lucky we got outta there in one piece. But with Super-Soakers, Man…"

"So, you figure we can fill the water reservoirs with Holy Water and spray it at the demons instead," interrupted Sam, beginning to at least understand his brother's thought pattern.

"Yeah, but the beauty of that is that we don't have to just spray 'em if we don't want to. Read the packaging. We can blast 'em with multi-blastin' bursts of Holy Water if we feel like it," elaborated Dean excitedly before he continued on with childlike exuberance, "And check out how big their water reservoirs are! Biggest ones on the market! Each one holds a hundred and one ounces! That's a crapload of holy water! And it'll give us lotsa ammunition to aim at those evil sonsabitches."

"Unless we get struck by lightning, first."

"Aww, come on Sammy! Don't be such a party-pooper."

" You mean stop being realistic?"

"What's realistic about God strikin' us down for knowin' how to hunt demons?"

"About the same realism as carrying toy water-guns everywhere we go in case we happen to run into any demons."

"And carrying flasks is any better?"

"They fit in your pocket, Dude."

Dean considered that for a moment. "Okay, ya got me there Sammy. But the Super-Soakers are still better for our current purposes. We can still carry the flasks in our pockets but we make sure we keep the Super-Soakers handy. We got a deal?"

"Yeah, it's a deal," agreed Sam grudgingly, if only to shut his brother up.

"Great! I knew you'd agree with me Sammy. You were always a good kid like that. Taking my side 'cause you always knew I was right." Dean grinned at his brother before adding, "Besides, I always wanted one of those babies when I was a kid."

Sam shook his head and snorted quietly. "Just tell me one thing, Dean. You ever gonna grow up?"

"Not if I can help it, Sammy. Not if I can help it."

THE END.


End file.
